


Strays

by jeonginsdimples



Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: 3RACHA, AU, Abuse, Alternate Universe - High School, Angst, Angst and Fluff, Anxiety Attacks, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Sexual Harassment, M/M, Panic Attacks, Slight fluff, Slow Updates, Swearing, Tears, Violence, leader chan, slight crack
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-10
Updated: 2019-06-15
Packaged: 2019-10-08 03:10:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 15,640
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17378465
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jeonginsdimples/pseuds/jeonginsdimples
Summary: All Jeongin wanted was a happy life, and to reunite with his mother.Maybe Chan and his friends could give him that.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, this is my first story on here :))) Please tell me about any errors.

Jeongin pushed the eraser shavings around the desk while drowning the teacher out. He will never need to use the pythagorean formula anytime in life. Instead he focuses in on the empty paper in front of him in which he’s supposed to take notes. The rest of his notebook looked similar with a few doodles here and there. Jeongins head was elsewhere during class, he had more important things than centuries-old theorems.

The bell rang for the last time that day. School’s out. Shit. Jeongins head shot up—he was unprepared for going home today. Dad was coming home from his “business trip”. That “business trip” was most likely bar hopping around korea, getting drunk every night. This wasn’t an uncommon occurrence, dad went on many of these trips every year. At least once a month since his mom left the two.

Jeongin gathered his things and reluctantly left the classroom. As much as he hated algebra, it would always be better than the hell he had to call home. Jeongin didn’t notice the two figures walking towards him as he attempted to shove is notebook in his backpack. By the time he noticed them he already had run into them. Jeongin looked up to see the two looking down on him, one with blonde hair and one with dark brown. The one with the brown hair seemed to resemble a teddy bear.

“Woah are you okay there-” Teddy Bear said whilst reaching out his hand to Jeongin. Jeongin quickly pushed his hand away and scrambled up on his own. The one standing next to Teddy Bear furrowed his brows at the youngers actions. The blonde hitched his backpack higher on his shoulder and stepped towards Jeongin as if he was going to say something.

Jeongin shot out a tiny ‘sorry’ and scampered away towards the entrance of the school before he could say anything, though. Unfortunately, today wasn’t going well for Jeongin as he had tripped, again, over a stray book he hadn’t seen before.

“Ow,” he groaned out as he held onto his ankle he just rolled. He rocked back and forth waiting for the pain to ease. He mentally cursed himself for having the worst luck of any person ever. Because of stupid Moby Dick he was about to miss the bus. His dad is going to throw a drunken tantrum once Jeongin arrived home late.

“You sure you don’t need any help?” called a familiar voice. Jeongin turned his head from his ankle to see the two boys from before standing at the end of the hallway. Great. They probably saw him face plant two times in a row. Instead of responding Jeongin gathered his things, again, and got up. His ankle fired up with another round of pain from the sudden movement. But Jeongin ignored it and limped his way out of the school.

As was predicted, Jeongin missed the bus. So he started the walk to his house in the cold temperatures of November. The trees had already lost their leaves which laid in piles of red, orange, and yellow everywhere around the lone boy. Jeongin tried his best to walk normally but his injured ankle protested. He was going to be way later due to the slow pace he had to walk to minimize the pain. The sun was covered in a thick layer of clouds that didn’t provide much light, which set a downcast mood. Jeongin already felt the extreme anxiety growing in his stomach as he neared his street. He spent the past week in peace without his dad, acting like he lived a normal life on his own. Jeongin secretly hoped that his dad would forget about him and would never come home ever again. But Jeongin had to face reality and deal with his alcoholic of a father. It’s as though his father hasn’t ever been sober since his mom left. Mom. Jeongin missed her so much, things were happier with her—they were happier with her.

Before Jeongin knew it he turned onto his street. He saw the familiar brown house that stood out drastically compared to its neighbors. It’s lawn was the only one dying, shingles falling off it’s roof, and the paint peeling off. It stuck out like a sore thumb. Jeongin stopped at the end of the driveway once he arrived, trying to mentally prepare himself for the hell his dad was going to put him through.

He took tiny step, by tiny step up the driveway and past the his dad’s nearly broken down car. Up the creaky porch stairs and towards the dark door, which was one harsh swing away from coming off its hinges. Jeongin took a couple deep breaths, a desperate attempt to calm his nerves and running mind.

Maybe, just maybe, his dad already passed out. Maybe his dad wouldn’t care that his son came home late. Maybe his dad wasn’t even drunk. All those options are highly unlikely, but there was still a fraction of severed hope in him.

When Jeongin slowly opened the door it let out a long and high-pitched creak. The scent of strong alcohol and cigar smoke hit Jeongin like a bullet. The smell his dad took with him every place he went. Jeongin turned his head to see his dad standing right next to the door looking at him. He towered over Jeongin and weighed way more than the teenage boy. He looked like he always did--baggy clothes, bloodshot eyes, messed up hair, and covered in a gross grimy layer of sweat.

“You’re late,” his dad spat out every syllable with venom. Jeongin turned his head down, breaking the moment of eye contact with his dad.

“I’m sorry,” Jeongin said so quietly, that if his dad wasn’t so dangerously close to Jeongin he never would have heard the tiny mutter. “I missed the bus. It won’t happen again.”

“Of course you would say another fucking excuse. That’s all you say, excuse after excuse,” his dad growled out. He leaned down right to Jeongins face, he was so close Jeongin could feel his hot breath on his face in shallow pants. Jeongin nearly gagged at his father’s breath which reeked of alcohol. Jeongin didn’t respond and continued to look down at the floor, eyes widening. He started to shake from the anticipation of what would take place next.

The boy felt a sharp stinging across his face as his head turned to the left from the sudden force, accompanied by a loud slap echoing throughout the room. He was pushed to the floor but his backpack stopped him from any serious injury. Everything happened so quick--a kick to the chest, a hit to his side, and another slap to his face. Jeongin didn’t put up any fight, it would only make things worse. He just had to endure until his father would get tired and give up.

By the time his dad was done with him the pain which was once in his ankle was spread to nearly every other part of his body. He watched his dad walk away towards the kitchen, most likely to find another bottle of Bud Light.

Jeongin had the metallic taste of blood in his mouth, and he felt as though every inch of his body was bruised. He lifted up his hand to his face to find out blood was flowing out of his nose. His dad would be even more pissed if Jeongin bled all over and stained the floors. Jeongin had to get out of there before his dad came back for round two.

The bruised boy used the last of his strength to drag himself to the stairs next to him. Backpack in hand he crawled up the stairs as quiet as he could as to not alert his father. Every muscle in his body was screaming for him stop, but he continued through the excruciating pain. It felt like an eternity before Jeongin reached the door to his bedroom at the end of the hallway.

Alas, he pushed open the door and slowly made his way into his room. He closed and locked the door quickly and crawled into his bathroom. Using the bathroom counter as leverage, he pulled himself up to the mirror. Blood was coming out his nose and his mouth. He couldn’t even imagine what his body looked like.

Jeongin painstakingly pulled his shirt off to examine his body. His torso was completely black and blue, and there were welts all up and down his arms. He started cleaning himself starting with his nose and slowly moving down his body. It was a time-consuming process as he made sure to treat every wound with care.

Jeongin thanked his teachers for not giving him too much homework. Tonights work would only take around a half hour. Jeongin limped his way to his bed to do his homework. Jeongin was actually able to finish earlier than he expected.

He pushed his school stuff onto the floor next to his bed and collapsed on his pillow. He didn’t bother crawling under the covers, he didn’t have enough energy. He curled up into a ball in an attempt to stay warm in the freezing cold of the house. It was easy to see his dad hadn’t paid the heating bills yet and he probably won’t get around to paying them this winter at all.

Jeongin closed his eyes and let out a long exhale of breath. He remembered when he was able to fall asleep in a warm bed during the fall when he was young.

(Flashback)

“Mommy, come push me,” a four-year-old Jeongin yelled out to his mother at the park. His two parents were sitting next to each other, his mother’s head on his dad’s shoulder whilst his dad had his arm wrapped around the stunning woman. His mother laughed and got up from beside her husband walked over the giddy child waiting on the swing.

“Okay, but this is the last time and then we have to go home,” she responded to him. She ruffled the young boys hair and went behind him to start pushing him. Jeongin started giggling and swinging his legs once his mom started pushing.

“Higher mommy,” Jeongin squealed. His dad started chuckling at his young son, and walked over to the two.

“Jeongin sweetie, do you want to go get some ice cream?” his father offered and immediately after the question was asked Jeongin jumped off his swing.

“Yes!” he exclaimed and started walking with his dad.

“Sanghun, it’s getting late,” his mom stated as she caught up with the two.

“I know, but the kid just wants some ice cream,” Jeongin’s father defended. His mother smiled and shook her head.

Jeongin loved her moms smile. It lit up every room she was in. She always had that smile on whenever Jeongin and her went to the market. It seemed as though the market was her second home. She knew all the vendors, and would go to every stall just to taste food and look at the products the sellers had put out for the day.

She always took Jeongin to one stall. It was her favorite stall. Up until she left, she would always let Jeongin buy one thing from that very stall for his birthday. His family was always tight on budget but his birthday was the only day she would splurge on something expensive.

The stall would only sell art such as paintings, sculptures, and other things. But this art was extraordinarily beautiful and would always tell a story. It turned into Jeongin’s favorite stall as well for he could stare at the artwork for hours at a time—even from a young age. It was run by an elderly lady and her granddaughter, the two would work together to create heavenly masterpieces.

But with the good always came the bad.

One day Jeongin’s dad drank too much. His dad nearly blew all of the small family’s money gambling at a casino downtown. His mom was reasonably mad, and made the mistaking choice of yelling at Jeongin’s dad. Jeongin heard the loud noise his dad’s hand made hitting his mother across the head. He had to listen to his dad and mom fight through the whole night. The young kid cried himself to sleep through the screams and threats.

When he awoke the next morning he went downstairs and expected his mom to be sitting at kitchen counter drinking coffee as usual. But she wasn’t there. It was only his dad with puffy eyes from what appeared to be crying, and he was surrounded by an ungodly amount of empty beer cans.

“Where’s mom?” Jeongin squeaked out. His dad turned to look at him from his seat in the kitchen.

“She left, can’t you tell you stupid kid,” His father retorted. Jeongin opened his mouth to ask another question but his father beat him to it. “She’s not coming back either.”

The six-year-old felt his throat start to close up and his eyes start to water. He thought his dad was lying and mom would walk in the front door laughing with that stunning smile on her face. But she didn’t come back that day. Or the day after that. Or the day after that day.

His mother never came back.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> His adrenaline was pumping—his dad was going to be pissed and the young boy knew it for certain.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sksk ya’ll jeongin got his braces off and he looks like a whole ass uwu now. anywho, i hope you guys enjoy the chapter :)

Jeongin felt the blanket of cold air surround him as he awoke to the pestering sounds of his alarm. He slammed his hand down quickly onto the old machine much to the protest of his sore muscles. He forgot to turn it down last night in his haste to get to bed.

He slowly pulled himself off the creaky bed and to the bathroom. He limped over the shockingly freezing, tan tiles of the small room towards the shower. He pushed aside the green curtain and turned the knob of the shower dial. The teenage boy stripped himself of his pyjamas and stepped into the shower. He leaned up against the wall for support and started to warm up his tired body.

He worked out the kinks and built-up tension in his joints, and washed his body up. After the brief shower he got out and picked out some clothes for the day. He wore a long sweatshirt and sweatpants to cover up the cuts and bruises that littered his body. He was glad it was Friday, he would have the rest of the weekend to recover if he didn’t provoke his dad again. 

Jeongin walked over to his desk and grabbed a granola bar from the secret stash he kept in one of the drawers, and sat down in an old chair he got from a thrift store awhile back. Although he could stay home for another 20 minutes and ride the bus to school, Jeongin would do anything to get himself away from his dad. After he finished the bar he flushed the wrapper down the toilet so his dad wouldn’t find it. 

He grabbed his bag and made the anxiety-inducing trip down the stairs and out the door. Jeongin hoped his dad was still asleep. 

Turns out luck was on Jeongins side this morning as his dad was still knocked out on the leather couch in the front room. The unconscious man was surrounded by many bottles of whiskey and vodka with a half empty bottle still precariously held in his hand off the side of the couch. Some of the alcohol had spilt out of the bottle onto the beige carpet below and made a tiny puddle of brown liquid. 

Jeongin quickly slipped on his worn-out shoes and hurried out the door as quiet as he could be. He trudged his body to school through the frigid morning temperatures. Jeongin admired the rusty colored sun rising above the roofs of the houses. The sight was rare in this time of year so Jeongin enjoyed it while he could. 

Jeongins body still ached in a few places but he was able to walk on without the panging feeling bothering him too much. He would be able to go throughout the day without a problem. 

He arrived at school earlier than he wanted but he was fine with it, he would just wait in the library. Not many students ever really went to the library so he would be able to rest there without many people around him. Even though school didn’t start for another 30 minutes there was still quite a handful of students roaming the high school. 

Everyone had their group of friends they hung out with—they all had a place. Jeongin felt like the odd one out, he never talked to much people unless it was needed. Everyone laughed and talked amongst one another and relished in each other’s presences. As much as Jeongin wanted a group he would be able to go to, he doubted anyone would want to hang around him. He was just the weird kid no one wanted to talk to or associate themselves with. 

Jeongin passed the front office and headed down the hallway towards the schools library. The librarian usually opened it early in the morning for any students who need to finish up on assignments. As Jeongin walked down the sizable hallway he felt a pair of eyes focusing in on him. When he turned his head around he saw the blonde kid from after school yesterday looking at him. 

When Jeongin first looked at the other guy’s facial expression he thought he saw confusion? Or was it concern? The blonde guy’s eyes were trained on Jeongins right wrist and when Jeongin looked down at his own wrist he realized a certain bruise was showing from under his sweatshirt. Jeongin tugged his sleeve down and quickened his pace to the library. He opened the glass door and slipped in unnoticed by the stray last-minute-studiers, and staff. He rushed over to the corner where a few tables were set up. 

Jeongin set his bag down on the table and sat on one of the oak stools. Jeongin took out a book he checked out about a week ago and started reading. 

Giggles brought him out of his reading session. Two boys were across the library laughing at one of the computers—probably at a funny image one had found. 

One had orange colored hair whilst the other had brown hair. The brown haired one was exceptionally handsome and caught Jeongin quite off-guard. Jeongin had never seen a high schooler so handsome before, most of them had acne scattered across their faces and looked awkward. But this one seemed different than the rest. 

The handsome student must’ve felt Jeongin staring at him because he turned his head to look at Jeongin from where he sat. Jeongin turned his head back to his book quickly and felt his cheeks start to burn with embarrassment. 

After a couple minutes Jeongin went to steal another glance but when he turned his head he saw that the beautiful person was still looking at him. Jeongin shoved his book back into his bag and slung it over his shoulder. He started booking it for the library doors, the handsome guy still on his mind. 

That certain handsome person would stay on his mind until physics when their teacher, Mr. Park, would announce one of the things Jeongin hated to hear. A partner project. They always ended up bad no matter how hard he tried. Either Jeongin would end up doing all the work or his partner would just be straight-up annoying.

“For this project we will be doing a mini-car race!” said Mr. Park in his obnoxiously cheerful voice, “You will all be supplied the same three-speed gearbox with a 3 V motor, but what your car will look like and how it is shaped depends on you guys!” Mr. Park started walking around the classroom and handing out packets. “Just fill out the information in this packet as you guys go and you’ll do fine. This’ll be due in two weeks!” 

Jeongin heard groans from around the classroom, and he could already feel the stress forming. 

Mr. Park fixed his messy hair before reaching for a sticky note which appeared to be the list of partners. As the man started calling off names, everyone went to their partner. Those who were paired with their friend giggled in excitement while others who weren’t so lucky sat in silence next to their partner. 

Jeongins partner ended up being a kid named Lee Minho. Jeongin had only seen him once or twice around the school, and from what he could tell Minho wasn’t too bad of a person. He wasn’t one of the stuck-up populars, and nor was he one of the kids who always skipped school and smoked weed. 

“Let me lay down some more guidelines and I’ll let you guys get started!” Jeongin zoned out as the middle-aged man blabbered on. Jeongin was already forming fake excuses as to why they couldn’t work at his house. 

‘We have family in town and they don’t want to be disturbed.’

‘My dad is having people come over to clean the carpets.’

They sounded lame but they would work. 

“Okay! I will be here if you guys have any questions. You may begin!” Mr. Park finished as he clapped his hands as a way to signal for the teens to get started. 

“Um, so hi, my name is Minho and your’s is Jeongin, correct?” asked the brown haired boy as he turned to Jeongin. 

“Yeah,” Jeongin let out a quiet answer but Minho could still hear it over the chatter of the classroom.

“Well it’s nice to meet you. I was thinking tomorrow we could start the design of the car in class since we don’t have enough time today in-” Minho was cut off by the harsh sound of the school bell. The two boys halted the little conversation they had going and started packing up their things. 

Next was lunch, arguably one of Jeongins least favorite times of the school day. Unlike his classes where he could easily distract himself with the schoolwork he had to do, during lunch he was completely vulnerable. Jeongin always sat alone, he didn’t have much to eat, and his mind would always wander. 

Jeongin set out towards the classroom door and successfully bumped into two people while trying to exit the room. His shoulder pounded with pain where one of the people had ran rather forcefully into one of his bruises. He tried to cover up all the signs that the pain bothered him as he walked down the hallway. 

Jeongin rushed through the lunch line and grabbed a cheap ham sandwich to eat. He sat at the end of one of the tables, being sure not to be sat near anyone. He ate long and slow bites as he stared at the rest of the cafeteria. Everyone was laughing and talking amongst their friends and Jeongin, once again, felt like the odd one out. 

He awkwardly ate his sandwich listening in on the few snippets of conversation around him. 

“Did you hear about what happened with …?”

“I tried talking with her yesterday and she just ignored me.”

“Bro, why aren’t you eating anything.”

That last sentence hit Jeongin with a wave of nostalgia. Jeongin unsuccessfully tried to repress the terrible memory that statement brought along.

(Flashback)

“I do so much for you, and you don’t appreciate any of it!” his father screamed at him with rum-ridden breath. “I’m the one always working to make sure you can even go to school, and you expect me to just hand you $100?”

“I just want some lunch money, not that much…” 7-year-old Jeongin murmured out as he tried to lean away from his enraged father. 

“Yeah, well, I don’t have that money. Suck it up and be man, you don’t need no damn lunch.” those were his father’s last words before the man stormed out of the house in a fit of drunken madness. 

Jeongin felt the front door slam and heard the old photo frames on the wall clatter due to the extreme force. The young boy felt the hot tears stream down his face as knees started to shake. He sat himself down in one of the dining table’s chairs and wrapped his arms around himself.

The underfed boy barely got enough food at home, let alone school. All he wanted was just some spare coins to buy even the most miniscule thing. 

He rode the bus to school the following day with his stomach growling as his father didn’t come home that night. His dad most likely spent the night in jail for, yet again, another misdemeanor. 

Jeongin throughout the day felt the exhaustion of malnutrition drag his tired body down. 

He was sitting with his couple friends at lunch, jealously watching them enjoy their food. He tried his best to not let the growling of his stomach be heard.

“Hey Jeongin, where’s your food?” asked a particularly nosy friend as he took a bite out of his sandwich. 

“I forgot it…” the hungry boy trailed off from the wimpy excuse he was giving. He would try to come up some form of excuse every day for the rest of the year. 

By middle school, Jeongin managed to steal a couple dollars from his dad’s wallet every week. His dad got so drunk he barely remembered how much he spent on alcohol, and Jeongin used that to his advantage.

Even though Jeongin had money, he didn’t have much of it so he was only able to get an item a day. 

(End of flashback)

Jeongin put down his ham sandwich—his appetite lost. 

The rest of the day flew by for Jeongin and he was in Algebra before he knew it. The teacher blabbed on about the theorems from yesterday. Jeongin’s eyes slowly started to close out of tiredness and boredom. He felt himself slip into darkness as the teacher talked on.

“Jeongin. Jeongin,” the young boy felt a nudge on his shoulder. He lifted his head to see his Algebra teacher, Ms. Choi, standing over him, an annoyed expression across her face. “This is the third time this week you fell asleep in class, at this point I need to start giving you detentions.”

Jeongin’s eyes widened at the realization of the statement. His heartbeat quickened into a dull pounding, and his stomach dropped.

“No I-I won’t do it agai-,” Jeongin started but was cut off by his teacher.

“No. You missed too much class already. You’ll spend 15 minutes after school helping clean the classroom.” Ms. Choi stated, and then the woman spinned on her heel and walked away.

Jeongin put his head down on his desk out of frustration. His classmates around him who were listening to the ordeal continued their halted conversations, leaving Jeongin alone. 

The school bell rang out throughout the classroom, and all of the other students filed out, excited for the weekend. Jeongin, on the other hand, let out a sigh and started to feel tears press against the back of his eyes, threatening to spill over. The young boy forced them back and got up to see what chore Ms. Choi had in store for him.

A few minutes later, and Jeongin found himself with a rag and spray bottle, wiping down desks and chairs. Cleaning the classroom was easy and actually quite relaxing, but what would happen when he would get home had Jeongin reeling in panic. 

His father would be so angry that Jeongin came home late, let alone he would be late two days in a row. The boy felt his hand shake every time he went to lift the spray bottle. His nerves were off the handle and the tears threatened to spill over once again. 

15 minutes passed rather quickly—too quickly in Jeongin’s opinion. He reluctantly gathered his things into his bag, and Ms. Choi dismissed him. As he exited the classroom he noticed the blonde kid, yet again, at the end of the hallway. Jeongin gave him a quick suspicious glance as he walked by and hurriedly rushed out the doors to the school.

Unlike yesterday, where he enjoyed the scenery on the way home, Jeongin was in a rush today. His adrenaline was pumping—his dad was going to be pissed and the young boy knew it for certain. Jeongin’s heavy heartbeat was synced up to his steps, every time he put a foot down, his heart would pump. His breath was heaving as he made headway towards his house. 

His anxiety reached a high as he turned the corner onto his street. He felt tears stream down his face from the wind blowing into his eyes, and his knees started to slightly tremble. Slowing down as he neared his house, Jeongin noticed his father wasn’t inside—he was out on the porch. 

His father held a scarily empty bottle of vodka and he leaned against an old chair for support. The teenager stood at the end of the driveway, his chest heaving from the heavy running. His father’s eyelids drooped lowly on his eyes as though he were asleep. 

“Well look who finally decided to show up,” the grimy man’s gruff voice called out. “I thought you finally ran away, brat.” Jeongin’s throat closed up and tears continued to spill from his eyes. 

His father slowly got down from the porch, bottle in hand, and started to stumble his way towards Jeongin. The trembling in Jeongin’s legs doubled, and his brain started to shut itself down. 

The frightened boy shut his eyes in fear of what would happen next, letting the trepidation take over his whole mind. 

He heard the sound of the vodka bottle breaking against his side before he could feel it.

But then the pain set in.

The sweatshirt helped block some shards of glass, but the bigger pieces of the sharp material successfully penetrated his sweatshirt, and skin. As he let out a cry of pain, Jeongin slowly sank to the ground, clutching his side. Every heaving breath Jeongin took would send a wave of pure agony over his whole body. He sat there on his knees, immobilized from the affliction and could feel droplets of blood begin to soak through the thick material of sweatshirt. 

His father attempted to kick Jeongin whilst the injured boy was on the ground but only ended losing his balance from his drunken state. Instead, he punched Jeongin’s nose, but it was a weak blow. His eyes still shut, Jeongin waited for the next blow.

It never came, though. 

The sound of a rough crash made Jeongin’s eyes fly wide open. The sight was shocking—a first to ever happen for the teenager.

The blonde from school who seemed to take a little interest in Jeongin, was tackling Jeongin’s father to the ground.

“You motherfucker!” The boy screamed at the man he was currently pummeling into the ground. Jeongin just watched with wide eyes, hands still clutching his hurt side. The blonde looked enraged, fists flying at the already unconscious man beneath him.

Jeongin was in shock, unable to register the situation. No one had ever noticed his father’s abuse, let alone intervened in such a violent way. The initial shock evanesced, it was quickly replaced by a feeling of relief. Although this blonde kid could leave Jeongin here after he was done attacking his father, Jeongin was still grateful someone stepped in for once.

The blonde appeared to have calmed down after taking out is fury on the drunk man, and he carefully got up and grabbed his bag which he had thrown down before tackling the abuser. After dusting off his pants, he turned to Jeongin with concern held in his eyes. He rushed over to where Jeongin was sat, and started to examine his body.

“Where does it hurt the most?” He asked Jeongin, and Jeongin pointed to his side where the bottle had been hit. “Ok, come with me.” He went to Jeongin’s uninjured side and threw Jeongin’s arm of over shoulder. He helped the impaired boy up, and proceeded to half-carry him down the street.

Drowsiness overtook Jeongin as the older teen took him to an unknown place. The blonde was Jeongin’s main support, his own legs very weak. After turning a few street corners, the pair entered an apartment complex. From what Jeongin could tell, it definitely was not a high class place. It looked similar to his house—old, falling apart, paint peeling, and creaky wood stairs. 

The blonde helped Jeongin up one of the flights of wooden stairs towards the second floor of one of the buildings. Jeongin could hear his partner let out a couple grunts from the labor of having to carry Jeongin. They finally reach a door at the end of the hallway, the number ‘36’ was posted on the door in gold letters. The ‘6’, though, was barely hanging on, and appeared to have worn out over time. 

Jeongin’s vision started to dot with black as the door was unlocked and pushed open by the blonde beside him. He could barely take in his surroundings, and only felt himself be half-carried into the apartment. Jeongin felt total unconsciousness take over as he felt himself be dropped on what felt like a couch or bed

For once, he felt safe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> my twitter is @mochiesungie, feel free to dm me anytime :)


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chan kept his arm over Jeongins shoulder, and for once in Jeongins life, he felt safe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey guys!!! sorry for not updating for like forever, but i will try to get out chapter 4 quicker. any of y’all seeing skz in concert?? i’m not :( but anywho, enjoy!!!!

“... I was concerned, ok!”

“What if he followed you here or something, Chan?”

“Well did that happen?”

Jeongin slowly opened his eyes to a sight of a dirty apartment, and two people standing over him—Teddy Bear and Blondie. 

Confusion flooded the boy as to why he was here with them, but then did his memory flood back in. His dad, Blondie saving him and dragging him back here. Jeongin could only guess that this was Blondie’s apartment. He slowly sat up, but his side panged with pain in the process.

Jeongin noticed that while he was asleep someone had but a pillow under his head, and a blanket to cover his body. He yawned from tiredness whilst he scanned his surroundings. The apartment definitely was not five star—far from it actually. The furniture and appliances in it looked older than Jeongin himself, and everything was a very bland color. With little pieces of trash and other knick-knacks it truly looked like a teenage boy lived here. The two standing in the kitchen finally noticed Jeongin had awoke, and hurried over to the couch. 

“Hi, Jeongin, is it? I’m Woojin,” said Teddy bear. Jeongin nodded his head, answering the other’s question. “This shithead next to me is Chan,” he continued, pointing at the blonde next to him. 

“Are you alright? Sorry, the couch isn’t very comfortable but it’s the only place I could put you in here,” said Chan. Jeongin nodded again and relaxed a bit into the couch. “Do you need anything right now?”

“Maybe some water,” Jeongin croaked out. Chan quickly got up and rushed to the kitchen, which wasn’t far away, maybe several feet. Whilst Chan did that, Woojin continued to make sure Jeongin was alright. 

The teenage a boy felt weird—no one had ever taken care of him before. A wave of gratitude washed over him and he felt the corners of his lip turn upwards.

“Are you sure you don’t want anything else?”

Jeongin nodded his head, again.

“Should we call the police?”

Jeongin’s eyes widened in horror.

(Flashback)

Jeongin’s six-year-old body was shivering, sat inside his neighbors living room. His father had gone too far this time—hitting him instead of the just usual harsh word or two. The young boy was soaking wet from when he had to run in the pouring rain to the safety of the house across the street. Tears stained his cheeks as he continued to hiccup.

“Ok sweetie, we called the police and they should be here any minute,” his neighbor, Mrs. Jung, sweetly announced as she strolled into the room, cellphone in hand. Her other kids, who were around Jeongins age, peeked around the corner to get a glimpse at the boy sat in their house. Jeongin could here whispering coming from the direction but decided to not pay them any attention. Mrs. Jung gave the shaking boy a look of pity and walked over to the stairs, where the children were huddled, to tend to her kids. 

Jeongin was still in shock from the events that took place not long ago. His dad nowadays always went to the bar straight after work and didn’t come home until late into the evening. Today was no different, his dad came home completely wasted. Jeongin was sat at the kitchen table, doodling on a coloring sheet he had stolen from his classroom, not realizing just how late he had stayed up. His dad was enraged at how late Jeongin had stayed up, and went on to scream at the child. 

The terrified boy started to cry, wetting the paper below him. Everyday his dad always nit-picked at him, always finding something new that was wrong with Jeongin. The drunk continued to yell at his son, who was cowering in his seat. Out of nowhere, a hand shot out and slapped Jeongin across the face. 

His father had hit him. 

It felt like time had stopped as both sat there looking at each other. A burning sensation spread across the left side of Jeongins face as his breath got heavier. The worst part of it all was that his father didn’t look one bit remorseful. It was as though he didn’t just hit his son across the face after screaming at the boy over such a miniscule thing. 

At that moment Jeongin felt as though there was only one thing left to do--run. The young boy used his slender body to his advantage and managed to squeeze past his father, bolting for the  
front door

“Hey! Get back here, brat!”

But Jeongin kept going, and opened the door. Rain was pouring down outside in a relentless shower. But Jeongin kept going. Not even stopping to put on some shoes, or for a coat the young boy ran into the street. No cars were around and the streetlight dimly lit the empty road. Jeongin craned his neck to the side to get a glimpse at his house behind him. His father had just made it out the front door, stumbling down the stairs. But Jeongin kept going.

Jeongin rushed between two houses and onto a new street. He turned left and immediately hid on the front porch of the first house he got to. The young boy crouched behind a huge potted plant and gazed through the leaves to find his father.

His father wasn’t far behind him, blundering in the street. His father seemed as though he could barely see, eyes squinting to block out the rain coming down. After glancing around a couple times, the man took off down the opposite side of the street. 

Jeongin let out a sigh of temporary relief and stood up to stand in front of the door of the porch he was on. He shakily raised his hand to knock on the door. He first started by knocking lightly, but realized that wouldn’t gain the attention of whoever was sleeping in the house currently. Jeongin gradually got louder with his knocks until he was all out banging on the door. His neighbor opened the door, eyelids drooping from sleepiness. He explained his situation to the woman, Mrs. Jung, between sobs of hysteria. 

That is how Jeongin found himself on his neighbors couch, crying his eyes out. The sound of police sirens yanked him out of his thoughts, his body trembling even more. If his dad didn’t know where he was then, he did now. He could hear the door open and the sound of heavy footsteps entered the house. After a quick, quiet exchange between Mrs. Jung and what sounded like a few gruff voices, the police entered the room where Jeongin was sat. There were two police officers, both towering over Jeongin in intimidating uniforms. The one on the left, whose face was nearly covered by the hat on his head approached Jeongin and came down face-to-face with the young boy. 

“Hello, Jeongin. My name is Hyusun and this is my partner, Seoman. We will be helping you, but first you need to tell us what happened,” soothed the police officer. Jeongin proceeded to break down the story of what had occurred, and the two men listened patiently. After they had heard the story they both stood up, and walked over to where Mrs. Jung was sat at the kitchen table. 

Jeongin still couldn’t hear the little conversation going on between the three, but he didn’t care. He finally felt that he could now escape the cruelty of his father. Hyusun approached Jeongin once again after the exchange with the adults, and crouched down.

“Mr. Seoman and I are going to go to your house and talk to your dad, ok? We want you stay here, if you need anything please talk to Mrs. Jung,” Hyusun stated and Jeongin nodded his head, saying nothing. He could hear the two police officers leave the house and Jeongin relaxed against the couch. 

He wrapped his scrawny arms around his body and huddled down for warmth. The brown couch cushions beneath were soaked from his body. His wet clothes clung to his skin, leaving an itchy sensation. Jeongin was alone in the room—Mrs. Jung had left the room and stood near the front of the house. His emotions were all over the place and he couldn’t stop shaking. 

After what felt like an eternity, Mrs. Jung entered the room. Her lips were set in a grim line and her eyes didn’t show any sign of joy or gaiety. 

“Come with me,” she told Jeongin and the boy nearly immediately stood up. He inched towards the woman and they both approached the front door of the house. She took Jeongins hand and they both set off out the house and down the street. 

The rain had stopped, the smell of dew was the only reminiscence left. Jeongins mind was whirling, no idea what was going on. The continued down the winding road until they reached the end, and turned on to Jeongins street. 

From the distance, Jeongin could see the two police officers and his father standing in the front lawn of his house. At first he thought they were just talking, but as Jeongin got a closer look he saw they were laughing. Why were the laughing? What was funny? Mrs. Jung turned to Jeongin and hugged him.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered out. Jeongin was still terribly confused as to what was happening.

“What do you mean?” Jeongin questioned, his face forming into a frown. Mrs. Jung didn’t respond and just gave Jeongin a little shove towards his house, Jeongin took the hint and started walking forward. Every inch in Jeongins being wanted to turn around and run towards Mrs. Jung and never see his dad again.

But Jeongin kept going. 

As he approached his house, he could start to hear bits and pieces of the conversation.

“Yeah, every since his mom left he just doesn’t realize I have to work twice as much now to provide. He just needs to realize that I can’t pay as much attention anymore, and he needs to stop pulling these little stunts.”

“We completely understand, we see this all the time.”

“Yeah, kids will run from home just to get attention from their parents, it’s more common than you may think.”

Jeongin couldn’t believe what his ears were hearing. Did the cops not believe him? His body continued to shiver as he walked up to the three men.

“Oh, Jeongin, you’re finally home, I was so worried,” his father said with sweetness laced in his tone. The officers fell for his father’s acting but Jeongin saw right through it. 

“Well, we better head back to the station now. Call us if he ever acts up again,” Seoman said and both police officers walked back to their car. Jeongin’s eyes blew wide open.

His father had somehow managed to trick the police into thinking Jeongin was just some attention-seeking kid. But he wasn’t, why couldn’t they see that?

He wanted to just throw himself on the ground and start wailing, but all Jeongin could do was stand by his father and watch his only help drive off. 

From that day on Jeongin never went to the police again.

(End of flashback.)

When Jeongins mind came back to the surface, he realized both Chan and Woojin were looking at him, very concerned. He did his best to calm his trembling hands. 

“Jeongin, are you okay?,” questioned Chan, offering the glass of water held in his right hand. Jeongin took the glass from Chan, hand still slightly trembling. He glanced down to look at the water ripple from his unsteady grip. 

“Yeah, I just had a… bad memory,” he responded and looked back up at the two in front of him. They still appeared extremely worried but they didn’t ask anymore questions. After a long, very awkward pause Woojin abruptly stood up.

“I have to head home now, my grandparents just arrived in town,” Woojin explained, glancing down at the time on his phone. Chan stood up, too and helped Woojin to the door. As they walked, they talked in low, hushed voices, leaving Jeongin unable to hear what they were discussing.

Woojin headed out the front door, which was just down a short hallway to the side of the ‘living room’ (Jeongin was unsure if the room was even big enough to be classified as a room). When Jeongin heard the door open, he slowly got up, injuries screaming. Chan re-entered the living room after bidding goodbye to Woojin, confused to find Jeongin standing. 

“Jeongin, maybe you should sit down,” Chan said, rushing over to help Jeongin back down. Jeongin doesn’t allow him though, lightly shoving Chan’s arms away.

“Listen, I need to go home now. The longer I wait the angrier my father will be,” he states. 

“What are you talking about? You need to rest here, and why would you ever go back?” Chan replied, confusion still present. 

“Oh… I thought you would send me back…” Jeongin trailed off, breaking eye contact. He looked at the battered carpet he was standing on, anticipating Chan’s response.

“Why would I do that?” Chan stressed. “Even though I don’t know exactly what goes on between you and that man, who I’m guessing is your father?” Jeongin nodded his head in assurance. “But I can still tell it’s not safe for you there.” By now Chan has is arms wrapped around Jeongin and was helping the boy back down onto the couch. 

“So you mean I don’t have to go back?” Jeongin inquires, eyes beginning to water.

“Never again,” Chan stated. Jeongin nearly broke down into tears but he just barely kept his composure. He threw his arms around Chan and stayed there. Jeongin inhaled and the scent of Chan flooded into his nose. Chan smelled like lavender with a hint of vanilla, unlike Jeongins father who smelt of alcohol and cigars. Chan let out a tiny laugh and released himself from Jeongins grip. “You can stay here with me from now on, but just a heads up, this apartment is tiny as fuck.”

“It’s alright, it’s a lot better than my dads house,” Jeongin said with a small laugh-like sound. Chan didn’t laugh at that, though, he just frowned. After a slight pause of silence, Chan continued talking.

“I would give you the second bedroom, but I have that as a recording studio,” Jeongin perked up in interest. Recording studio?

“You’re in a band?” Jeongin asked out of pure curiosity. He didn’t want to be nosy, but the idea of Chan in a band seemed… interesting. Chan threw his head back a bit and chortled. 

“Kind of, but my group doesn’t really play instruments, we rap,” Chan responded, and Jeongin nodded, impressed. “Anyways”, Chan clapped his hands together, “this is the apartment, nothing special really, this is the most of it, apart from the bedrooms and bathroom but those are just down that hallway,” Chan motioned to a hall opposite of the entryway.

“Where will I sleep?” Jeongin asked. He actually didn’t really care, he would be fine sleeping anywhere because the whole apartment just had that homely feel to it. 

“I really don’t know yet, we can work that out after dinne—oh!” Chan blurted at the end of his sentence. Jeongin jolted a bit from surprise of the sudden noise. “I completely forgot, I don’t have any food. Sorry, I’m gonna have to run to the grocery store real quick.”

“Can I come with?” Jeongin squeaked out. The last thing Jeongin wanted to do right now was be alone, just in case his dad would somehow find him. Chan’s face softened and he nodded at the boy sitting on the couch. Jeongin slowly got up, and bore through the pain in his side. 

After Chan had gathered some items such as two coats for him and Jeongin and money, kthey were on their way. They walked in silence to the grocery store, but it wasn’t an awkward silence, and Jeongin actually found it very comfortable. After walking alone for so long it felt nice to finally have someone by his side. 

The two rounded some corners, and ended up at the front of a nice, tall building with what seemed like a never-ending parking lot. Jeongin never remembered ever going into this building, he got most of his food at a rundown convenience store by his house. 

They entered the building, and grabbed a cart. Chan led the two of them around the aisles, grabbing products off the shelves. Jeongin just looked around in curiosity, gazing at the endless rows of food. Eyes wide, The boy was taken aback by the amount of food—he had never seen so much in his life before. 

Jeongin was a lost puppy following Chan around, the older pausing every now and then to pick through the shelves. Currently, Chan was caught on trying to pick between two different types of apples. Jeongin leaned against the wooden crate holding the produce and let his eyes fall on the shelf in front of him. 

Chocolate.

Jeongin couldn’t recall the taste of chocolate, it had been so long since he had savored the sweet desert. His mouth watered just at the thought of it. He had heard many kids at school rave and rant about how good it was, he felt a small pang of envy. 

Chan had dropped a bag of apples into the cart after deciding Honeycrisp was better than Granny Smith. Chan turned back to Jeongin, and followed the youngest’s line of sight to the chocolate before them. 

“What type do you like?” Chan asked abruptly.

“What?” Jeongin asked back, slightly puzzled. 

“Chocolate, I thought I could get you some, you look like you want it.”

“Oh, you don’t have to, I don’t really have a favorite,” Jeongin tried to play off. Chan didn’t look like he was having it, and let out a laugh.

“Everybody has a favorite chocolate,” Chan joked, “it’s like law or something. Let me guess… you seem like a milk chocolate type of guy.”

“Um, I don’t really know what I like,” Jeongin replied, sheepishly “I don’t know what it tastes like.” He got out the last line quietly, as though he didn’t want people around him to hear. Chan let out a small “oh” of realization, remembering what Jeongins past circumstance was. 

“Well in that case,” the blonde started, “we definitely have to get it. No person living under my roof will not know what chocolate tastes like.” Jeongin felt his stomach do a slight flip at the ‘living under my roof’ part of the other’s statement. Chan took the cart and rushed over to the chocolate. He took every variation of the sweet he could find; white, dark, milk, some with almonds, even vegan chocolate. 

“You really don’t have to spend all that money on me, you probably need it for more important things,” Jeongin beckoned. The feeling of someone spending such a large sum of money on him was completely foreign. 

“No, trust me, we had a lot of money left over so why not spend it,” Chan insisted. The cart was nearly overflowing with the amount sweets packed into it. Chan threw an arm around Jeongins rigid shoulders, “c’mon, I’m like your dad now. If you ever want something, just tell me.” He shot Jeongin a smile and Jeongin sent a small one back.

Despite his blank front, Jeongins chest was exploding with emotions. This was one of the nicest things anyone had done for Jeongin in such a long time, the teenager felt as though he would cry. He contained his tears as best as he could, thinking it was stupid thing to cry over.

Chan kept his arm over Jeongins shoulder, and for once in Jeongins life, he felt safe.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jeongin currently was eating his ham sandwich while watching Seungmin put Changbin in a headlock, who had just stole Seungmin’s last chip.

Warmth enveloped Jeongin as he awoke. He welcomed the nice feeling with his stiff body, and sat up. Last night, it was decided Jeongin would sleep on the couch after a long time of persuasion. He didn’t want to feel like he was intruding on Chan, so he decided he wouldn’t sleep on Chan’s bed as the other had suggested. 

“Sleeping beauty finally woke up,” Jeongin turned his head towards the kitchen and saw the blonde leaning against the counter, coffee mug in hand. 

“What time is it?” Jeongin asked, stretching his sore muscles. 

“Don’t worry, we leave for school in thirty so you got time,” Chan replied. The black haired boy nodded in return and fell back down onto couch. He let out a soft groan.

Jeongin let the smell of coffee settle around him in a cozy blanket. His side still felt a bit sore, but had gotten significantly better after Chan had treated it last night. Chan seemed nearly like an expert, perfectly addressing and bandaging every injury. Jeongin would’ve thought of him as a nurse hadn’t he known Chan was still in high school. 

“How do you feel about omelettes?” Jeongin heard from the kitchen. 

“I don’t know, never had them,” he answered, staring at the ceiling. 

“Ok, well then get your ass over here and try some of it,” Chan hollered. It sure seemed like Jeongin would be doing a lot of taste testing in his next few weeks here. He sighed and heaved himself off the couch and into the little kitchenette. On the counter next to the blonde was two omelettes, one half eaten and the other untouched. “Now, I wouldn’t call myself Gordon Ramsay but I can sure cook one hell of an omelette.” 

Jeongin let out a light exhale of laughter at the other’s wittiness and grabbed a fork off the counter. He cut off a little corner of the food and lifted it to his mouth, Chan looking at him expectantly. Since Jeongin had ate the same granola bar for breakfast for years on end, anything would taste five star but Chan hadn’t lied in his bragging—it was a damn good omelette.

“It’s good” Jeongin mumbles around the food. Chan displayed a satisfied smile on his face and leaned back. The two ate in silence, sometimes Chan saying a line or two and Jeongin nodding in response. Jeongin liked to keep his replies short, wary of annoying Chan if he talked too much. 

Before Jeongin knew it, the two were walking out of Chan’s apartment, on their way to school. Chan had lent Jeongin some of his clothes, stating they would go after school to get Jeongin some clothes of his own. 

Chan was talkative this morning, and was nearly talking Jeongin’s ear off. Jeongin didn’t mind it though—he actually really enjoyed Chan’s company. A cloud of fog escaped their mouths every time they exhaled. 

Jeongin really wished he could open up to Chan, the blonde just had such a warm aura about him. But he had only known the older for only two days, he still couldn’t put his full trust in the other. If his past had taught Jeongin anything, it’s that anybody could turn on you in an instant. 

The pair had turned a very familiar street corner when Jeongin had noticed a certain, decaying home. His father’s car was gone, but all the house lights were left on. The younger felt his breath hitch in the back of his throat whilst the other let out a curse. Just the sight of the building had Jeongins knees trembling. His mind wandered to all the horrendous experiences he lived through in that house. 

“Hey, Jeongin you alright? I’m sorry—I’m such a dullard for bringing you this way,” Chan places his hand on the youngest shoulder and turned him around. “We can take a different direction, ok?” Chan looked into Jeongins eyes to make sure he was comprehending, and Jeongin nodded in return.

Jeongin felt himself lean into Chan’s body, by yanked himself from the other’s touch before he got comfortable. If Chan was offended by Jeongins actions, he didn’t mention but stayed silent. Jeongin could feel his cheeks burn with humiliation, he felt that Chan would think of him as too weak. A light tension was placed between the two as they took a different route to school. 

It seemed too soon when the tall, brick building came into sight. Students were walking in, talking, going about the daily. Woojin was stood out front of the building, amongst the throngs of teens. 

“Morning,” he said to the pair as they approached, breaking the silence placed upon the two. “Ready for another day of this hell?”

“Not exactly,” Chan responded, shooting Jeongin a glance. Jeongin shifted from foot to foot, uneasy. His nerves slightly calmed when Chan wrapped his arm around Jeongins shoulders (this action had become quite common, yet Jeongin still flinched). 

“Well, let’s get going anyway because you know Mr. Cheong hates it when I’m late,” Woojin said, sparing the two a confused glance. They all hurried up the stairs and walked into the large school. 

Jeongin’s day was a blur up until 5th Hour—Physics. Mr. Park was ready in his messed up hair and attire, overzealous about the car project they just started. Everyone was sat next to their partner, listening to the young male teacher blab on. 

“Enough of me talking,” Mr. Park clapped his hands together, “get to work now, I expect some good work from this class!” The class burst into conversation and Minho turned to Jeongin. 

“I say, today we just fill out the first page of the packet, and just do research,” Minho offered and Jeongin nodded a response. “I was also thinking we should go the extra credit route,” Jeongin looked up at Minho and raised an eyebrow. “Ok, I know what you’re thinking—I’m no try-hard or overkill but my parents like it when I do the best.” 

“It’s ok, but I should tell you that I’m not that smart,” Jeongin said and turned away. The two worked separately to collect different areas of research. Jeongin finished a bit early, and he occupied himself by looking at the window whilst waiting for Minho to finish.

“Oh yeah—if we’re gonna do extra credit we’ll need to work out of school..” Minho trailed off. 

“It’s alright, I’m free anytime,” Jeongin felt nice to be able to say a sentence such as that. His heart pounded a bit knowing all the freedom he now held. 

“Well, I can’t do tonight, I’m going to my dance studio.”

“You dance?” Jeongin never really took Minho for the dancing type, but now that he brought it up he could see it.

“Yeah, the JYP dance studio near Areum street. I have been going there since I was just a little kid.”

(Flashback)

“Jeongin lets go, I have places to be,” 9-year-old Jeongin could hear his father’s holler from all the way up in his room. He quickly hurried out of his bedroom and down the stairs to where his father was impatiently waiting by the door. 

“Sorry,” he squeaked out a response, making sure to keep his eyes trained on the floor. 

“Just get your damn shoes on,” the old man commanded, the reek of alcohol coming off in waves. His father never trusted him home alone whenever he went to a bar ever since the police incident. But Mrs. Jung has moved away about a year ago so Jeongin has nowhere to go, causing confusion as to why his father would still drag him everywhere. 

They hopped in his father’s old car, and drove down to Soo’s Bar. The only way to get to the dinky place would be to drive through Areum Street and onto the drive where the bar resided. Jeongin looked out the window and peered at the buildings rushing by. One that always caught his attention was the JYP dance studio. He always saw kids going in and out of it, laughing and having a good time. Jeongin always wanted to go there, wanted to be a dancer. Being one of those idols he saw on TV was one outrageous dream the young boy had. His dad, of course, would never let him. His father always said only ‘pussies’ dance. 

The young boy always daydreamed himself dancing in the studio, hanging out with friends. But his dream was shattered by reality when his father pulled up to the old rundown bar. It was ran by a nice, old lady back in the day but it was passed down to her grandson. If Ms. Soo saw how her bar was ran nowadays, she would throw a fit. Only the crowds of grown men, all alcoholics hung around the joint. 

Jeongin hated being at the bar. The guys his father drank with were loud, outspoken and rude. They all fit in the ‘obnoxiously mean’ category, most sliding derogatory jokes and slurs at Jeongin. Well, all of them, but one—Dongchul. Dongchul was nice. Too nice, uncomfortably nice. 

Dongchul always sat next to Jeongin and talked to the young boy. Despite his calm behavior Jeongin never felt at ease near the man. Unlike his innocent-perceived image, Dongchul was very handsy. His hand would be placed scarily high on Jeongins thigh whenever he led into a conversation. As the night went on, Dongchuls hands would roam even more. 

Progressively the touching would get worse and worse until Jeongin would just beg his father to stay home. His father agreed, claiming ‘he was a nuisance, anyway’. Jeongin was glad to never have seen Dongchul again, he felt things could’ve been a lot worse had he kept going with his father to the bar. 

(End of flashback)

“Jeongin. Hello? You there?” Minhos voice wrought Jeongin out of his thoughts. Jeongin shook his head a bit to clear his mind and turned to look at Minho. Minho looked slightly confused, probably because Jeongin had just spaced off for what appeared to be no reason.

“Sorry, what about the dance studio?” Jeongin asked, trying to steer the conversation back on track. Minho perked up a bit, seemingly happy about what Jeongin has just said. 

“Oh yeah! It’s such a nice place, and so many cool people go there. It’s like we have a family there, everyone helps me so much,” Minho started. From what Jeongin could tell, Minho was really passionate about the studio and his dance. The dancer described it as a way to relieve stress and to really express himself. Jeongin nodded along as he was genuinely interested in the place he had dreamt of so much when he was younger. 

After awhile, the conversing between the two had reeled back to the project they had been assigned. It had been agreed that the best night to continue working would be tomorrow evening. Jeongin hopes Chan would be ok with the set time, but he couldn’t see why the older would refuse. 

The bell rang out, and all the students bustled out. Jeongin took his time, he didn’t see what the huge rush was around lunch time. Everyone got their food and sat down, not a big deal. 

Jeongin, once again, got the usual sandwich and stood at the entrance to the cafeteria trying to look for a certain head of blonde hair. Chan had said he and Woojin sat with Chan’s band, 3racha, at the side of the cafeteria but he hadn’t specified which side it was. The young boy eventually found the the two sat near the windows over near the right. 

As he walked over to the table, he finally caught a first glimpse of Chan’s bandmates. One looked eerily similar to a squirrel whilst the other gave off a dark aura of sorts. Chan noticed Jeongin approaching and scooched over to make room for the teenager. The squirrel guy looked up from his food, the one which emitted dark aura stopped talking, and Woojin gave a warm smile. 

“Oh thank God! I thought it was Seungmin,” the squirrel guy said, putting his hand on his chest and leaning back.

“Who is this?” The other one (the one with the mysterious aura), looking at Chan. Chan let out a little titter and wrapped his arm around the boy who sat beside him. 

“This is our new friend, Jeongin, he’ll be with us permanently,” Chan announced to the table, “so Changbin don’t be a dick.” Changbin rolled his eyes and let out a scoff. 

“Whatever,” he grumbled and went back to eating his food.

“I’m Jisung, the fun one of this group,” the squirrel guy introduced. He leaned across the table towards Jeongin, “and also the better rapper but don’t tell them.”

“Hey!” Changbin hollered, and hit Jisung on the back of the head. Woojin laughed at their antics, and turned towards Jeongin.

“We have another person who sits with us, Seungmin, and he’ll be here any minute now. I’ve been friends with him since preschool, I think you’ll like him,” Woojin stated and smiled.

“Please no, I hate that little shit,” Changbin groaned.

“Oh hyung, you don’t have be so nice, I already know you love me,” came a voice from to the side of the table. Jeongin craned his neck to get a glimpse of a brown haired boy who looked around Jeongins age, who was most likely Seungmin. He walked over and wedged himself between Jisung and Changbin, which both seemed upset at the sudden intrusion. “You look new, did Chan “adopt” you? Sorry, he has a bad habit of that.” He held his hand out, and it took Jeongin a couple extra seconds before he caught on he was supposed to shake it. 

“I’m Jeongin,” he said in a quiet voice. Seungmin grinned in response, clearly pleased.

“I can already tell out Binnie here isn’t being too nice,” the enthusiastic boy slapped the back of the monotonous teen beside him. “If he ever causes you any trouble, just tell me and I’ll beat him up.”

“No way, first, you can barely throw a punch, and second, there’s no way I’m letting you get me suspended again.” Changbin let out a complaint and threw his spoon down into the bowl of soup he was currently consuming. Jeongin flinched a little bit from the loud ‘clang’ of the spoon hitting the bowl.

“Wait a minute, you’ve gotten suspended again! Changbin, I thought we talked about this,” Woojin chastised. Jisung rolled his eyes and shoveled another spoonful of food into his mouth. Jeongin eyed Chan, who just ate and acted like this was a daily occurrence. 

“Sorry mom,” Changbin grumbled sarcastically. Jeongin started on his ham sandwich and listened to the banter between the people sat at the table. Chan would input some words here and there, but would just the rest of them do the taking for the most part. 

Jeongin finally understood the ‘don’t let them scare you off, they’re actually nice people’ part of their talk last night over dinner about Chan’s friends. Jeongin currently was eating his ham sandwich while watching Seungmin put Changbin in a headlock, who had just stole Seungmin’s last chip. 

“There’s only like three chips in those bags of air and you dare take one with your greasy ass fingers,” Seungmin screamed into his ear. Jisung scooched over so he wouldn’t get get hit with one of Changbins flailing limbs. 

“It was only half a chip,” protested the headlocked teenager. Seungmin finally let go after some coaxing from Woojin, and an offer to buy him chips tomorrow. 

“On more important terms,” Chan started, “3racha has a little competition event this weekend at The Plaza, the rest of you coming?” 

Woojin and Seungmin both let out a ‘yep’, and everyone else looked to Jeongin. Feeling a little pressured from all the attention, he let out a nod. The bell brought an ending to the catastrophic lunch, and everyone got up and shuffled out of the room.

“You ok? Sorry, they can get a bit rowdy,” Chan had come up behind Jeongin and surprised the boy when he had abruptly started talking. Jeongin jumped a bit and turned to face the other while they walked to their next class. 

“Yeah, they seem… fun?” Jeongin didn’t really know what word to describe the eccentric group of boys. 

“They can take some get getting used to, but they’re all really nice.”

“Except for Seungmin, I think he’s the actual spawn of Satan,” emitted Changbin blandly, whom Jeongin hadn’t noticed was walking along with them. 

“Maybe not all, but most of them are nice,” Chan corrected. 

The three boys parted ways to head to their next class. As much as Jeongin was taken a bit aback from the actions of the others, he felt he could get used to them. He felt good knowing that at least now he had some people who he could hang around. 

Jeongin didn’t see any of the others until the end of the day. He was walking out, and found Chan standing right next to the Algebra door. 

The two set off out of the school and headed back to Chan’s apartment. They took a different route than the one this morning, Chan being sure that they would steer clear of Jeongins old house. They walked through the more urban part of town, the streets lined with brick buildings. Their town was quite old and some of the antique establishments still stood even after decades. 

“Oh yeah,” Jeongin remembered, “my classmate, Minho, invited me over to his house to work on our Physics project.” Chan whipped around with a slight inquisitive and concerned look plastered on his face. 

“How long have you known him? Is he in the same grade as you? Is he safe?” Chan immediately started to interrogate.

“Um, I’ve known him since yesterday and I think he’s a junior,” Jeongin said, unsure. “But I think he’s ok, he seems like a good person.”

“I don’t know, maybe you guys should come over to my apartment, I don’t think I’ve heard of him,” Chan replies warily. 

“Didn’t you say 3racha will be over? No offense, but I think that might be a bit too much people in your apartment,” Jeongin said back. As much as it would be easier to do it Chan’s apartment, the space was way too small.

“You got a point… Ok, fine you can go to Minho’s but even if you feel the slightest unsafe you will come home immediately,” Chan reluctantly said. Jeongin nodded and they finally turned into Chan’s apartment complex. “How does early dinner sound to night?”

“Sounds good,” Jeongin quietly replied, Chan inserted the key into the lock to his apartment and turned the knob. 

“Good because I have to get all the time possible to write and prepare for the competition this weekend,” they entered the apartment as Chan talked, “and we have two pots of instant ramen waiting to be made.”

Jeongin smiled a bit and followed the older teen into the tiny room. Things were slowly falling into place, and he was happy with how they were.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey y’all, hope you enjoy!! i appreciate any kudos or comments (i’ll try my best to reply to them too sksksj)!!! don’t forget to stream miroh for clear skin!!


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So Jeongin decided on that moment, he would find his mom.

“I expected better from you boys, especially you in specific Woojin,” the stern voice of the school’s principal, Mr. Song, rang out in the small room. Across the room sat in line from left to right was Jeongin, Chan, Woojin, Seungmin, Jisung, and then Changbin. Every one of them was covered in particles of food and stained with drinks. “A food fight! What are you guys? Five?”

“He was teasing me about my height and I did what any reasonable person would do,” Changbin exclaimed, pointing accusingly at Seungmin. Seungmin sat with no morsel of regret or remorse, chin held up high and a slight smirk on his face. 

Jeongin on the other hand, felt like he was going to shit his pants. The berating of the heated principal really upsetted the young boy, and made sure not to hold eye contact with the fuming man. Chan kept his hand on Jeongins arm as a sort of source for comfort. 

“I don’t give a damn! The cafeteria looks like a rampant mob of elephants ran through it and upturned every goddamn tray!” Mr. Song yelled, slamming his hand down onto a stack of papers on his desk. Jeongin flinched a bit and subconsciously scooched closer to Chan, who welcomed the boy. “Just get out of my office before the janitor starts to reign all hell on me.”

The teenagers willingly scrambled out of the cramped room, and found themselves sat outside the office in some old chairs. Seungmin and Changbin continued their fight from earlier except this time with less food. Jeongin started to pick at the cotton from the cushion of the chair where the fabric had peeled up over time. 

“Can you guys be quiet! We already have lunch detention for the rest of the week, and your guys’ bickering might just extend it,” Woojin bit out. He was clearly left in a sore mood after his nearly clean record has been tarnished. 

“You can blame Seungmin for the lunch detentions,” Changbin hissed. Jisung let an exhale of air as a laugh, and rolled his eyes. 

“It’s not my fault you can’t take a joke!” Seungmin shot back. Chan laughed at the two’s antics, and Jeongin cracked a small smile. The two continued their bickering like they did yesterday at lunch. The front desk secretary soon ushered the six boys out of the office and ordered them to go back to their classes.

The school day rushed by, all the classes a blur. Jeongin felt somewhat nervous to go home with Minho tonight, unknowing of what could possibly happen. Chan’s worries had worn off on him a bit, and Jeongin was left biting his nails in hesitation. 

When the final bell of the day had rung, Jeongin rushed out of his class to come face-to-face with Chan. Chan was leaning against the wall, facing the line of kids exiting to room. 

“How’d you…” Jeongin began, riddled with confusion.

“The teacher let my class out early,” Chan explained, already knowing what question Jeongin was going to ask. “Anyway, I’m here to remind you 3racha will be rehearsing when you come home. Remember what I said if something bad happens?”

“Leave immediately,” Jeongin repeated Chan’s words of the night before. He shrugged his backpack farther up his shoulder, and crossed his arms. 

“Ok good, have a fun time!” Chan smiled and patted Jeongin on the head before hurrying off to probably catch up with Jisung and Changbin. Jeongin took a second to readjust his now messed hair before setting off to meet Minho at the back of the school. 

Minho said in class today that they will have to take to bus to his house. Jeongin was unsure whether the bus driver would allow him on since he never had rode or signed up for the bus, but the other teen said that his bus driver was pretty laid-back. 

The young teen followed the bustle of students out the back door towards the line of waiting buses. Minho was standing in front of his bus, bus 78, looking around (most likely for Jeongin). When his eyes finally landed on Jeongin, his face lit up and waved the younger boy over. 

The two boarded the bus, and true to Minho’s word, his bus driver allowed Jeongin to ride. The stench of smelly teenagers hung around the whole of the bus, and burned Jeongin’s nose hairs, Jeongin was unsure of how Minho could ride home in this stench everyday. Minho insisted on sitting in the window seat claiming ‘the view is better than a bunch of repulsive high schoolers’. 

With the tiny glimpses Jeongin could steal looking out the window, he could tell the neighborhood they were driving through was very nice. The houses looked like they could go for hundreds of thousands of dollars, maybe even millions. 

A feeling of of being overwhelmed washed over him looking at the expensive houses. The over-the-top vibe the neighborhood alone gave off made Jeongin feel minuscule. If Minho lives here, it was a wonder why he would ride the bus—he could probably get a chauffeur. After a couple of stops, the bus nearly halfway emptied, Minho turned to the boy sitting next to him.

“Our stop is the next one,” he stated and shuffled around to get his backpack on. Jeongin followed the actions of the other and scooched to the outer edge of the seat.

The school bus pulled to a stop and a loud hiss was released from the air brakes as the doors pulled open. Both boys and some other kids stood up and exited off into the well-maintained streets. No pothole was in sight, and not a scrape was to be seen on a house or the sidewalk. The row of houses resembled what little knowledge Jeongin had known about Beverly Hills. 

Jeongin followed Minho up the long, winding street to a house that sat on the corner. It matched all the other houses in the fact that it was extravagant and luxurious. 

“My parents aren’t coming home tonight,” Minho started, “they have to stay overnight at their company building.” Jeongin nodded as the other teen went to unlock the front door. Or should Jeongin say front gate—yes, Minho had a gated fence around the whole of his house. 

Jeongin felt nearly speechless, he had never been in this part of town let alone go into one of the house. Minho led Jeongin inside and up the stairs (which, yes, was a grand staircase) and into what Jeongin could guess was Minho’s bedroom. 

They passed by a mirror set on a table on the second floor before reaching Minho’s room. Jeongin got a good look of himself passing by. His bruise from last week was slowly starting to fade, and the pain in his side was now nearly unnoticeable. His body was starting to make a recovery from the years of abuse.

“Let’s get started shall we, I can sit in the bed and you can work at my desk,” Minho said, clapping his hands together as they entered his bedroom.

“Yeah, uh, what do you want me to do?” Jeongin asked, unsure. Minho came over and broke down what was going to happen and what Jeongin was in charge of researching. After both of them agreed on what they were going to do, they got to work. 

Jeongin had his notes and textbook sprawled across the desk as he worked out calculations for their car. Minho’s work area on his bed looked similar to Jeongins, but he also had his computer opened, blaring music. Minho really enjoyed some group called get7? g7? Jeongin couldn’t remember the name of the group, but they had some pretty good music.

They worked hard, even as the sun went down they continued to work. Minho at one point in the night went to get some snacks from the kitchen for the two to eat. Jeongin eyes brushed over the clock and he pulled a double check when he saw what time it was. 9. How had so many hours passed already? 

“Ugh, my eyes burn,” Minho said, throwing himself back on the bed whilst rubbing his eyes.

“Same here,” Jeongin responded softly. He set down his pencil and folded his papers and books into his backpack. 

“Don’t you have to head home soon?” The other boy questioned and sat up to look at Jeongin. 

“Yeah, but I can wait awhile.”

“Ok, I think I’m gonna go with you because I’m heading to the dance studio tonight,” Minho started to collect his things.

“This late?” Jeongin was curious as to why anyone would want to dance at such a late time.

“I usually have to go at this time, if not later,” Minho sighed. He noticed that Jeongin’s curiousity had not yet been cured, and decided to continue. “My parents make me to the utmost work for school, they always say I have to do the best if I want to go to an Ivy League college.”

“Oh wow, you really want to go to an Ivy League?” Jeongin was shocked, their town wasn’t exactly known for producing valedictorians. 

“Not really… but my parents say it will best for me,” Minho broke off eye contact and threw his backpack off the side of his bed. “My parents don’t really know I dance, exactly—they would probably kill me for falling in love with a ‘not substantial career’.”

“Wait, so you want to be a dancer,” Minho nodded, “I’m not catching on, why don’t you just go into dancing then?”

“It’s not that easy,” Jeongin could tell Minho was holding back his tears, “my parents say it’s a hobby for girls, and that it won’t do me any good.” Silence hung in the air after the older boys outburst. Jeongin was unsure of what to say, never had encountering a situation as this. He licked his lips and looked around, trying to grasp for something, anything really, to say.

“You really love to dance, don’t you…” Jeongin trailed off, slightly awkwardly.

“Yeah!” Minho exclaimed in a burst of emotion, “it feels like I can’t live without it. Dance is the only way I don’t die from all the pressure.” Minho exhaled and fell back onto the bed, tears dripping out of his eyes.

Jeongin stood up and walked over, a bit reluctant. From his little interactions with Chan when Jeongins feelings got out of hand, the young teen slowly caught on of how to handle these debacles. Jeongin brought Minho up and wrapped the older in a hug. 

“Thanks,” Minho said, “wow, you’re the first person I told that, and I barely even know you.” Minho sniffles a bit and showed a small smile, “you’re easy to talk to, you know that?” Jeongin returned the smile and shook his head. 

“Thanks, you too,” Jeongin whispered and released Minho from his hug.

“Well, we better get going, otherwise you’re gonna be home late,” Minho stated and wiped the tears from his face. He got up and pulled a bag out under from his bed, Jeongin guessed it was his dance bag. The other teen gathered his things and they both set out in the middle of the night.

They stars twinkled above, not a cloud in sight. The night air was thick but not suffocating, and the temperature just right. Both of the boys continued their talk, this time with less tears. Minho complained about his overbearing parents, and Jeongin tried to encourage Minho to look on the bright side.

“They just find something wrong with everything I do, even if I get an A!” Minho’s voice rang out on the quiet street. “I know I shouldn’t really say this, but I really don’t think they’re the best of parents.” His voice quieted near the end of his statement, his eyes downcast.

“Yeah, I feel you,” Jeongin said, trying to relate, “my parents aren’t, uh weren’t, exactly the best either. T-that’s why I’m staying with Chan.” Minho nodded in understanding.

“Chan seems like a really nice guy,” Minho gazed off down the street before craning his head towards Jeongin. 

“He really is,” Jeongin lightened up at compliment of Chan. “Oh! By the way, do you know Chan’s rap group?”

“Of course, I always hear your whole lunch table screaming about it at lunch,” Minho was smiling as he replied. Jeongin snickered at the thought that the whole cafeteria probably heard the tables loud conversations.

“They have this kind of competition thing this weekend, and I was wondering if you would want to go?” Jeongins heart was beating. It shouldn’t have been as big a deal as it was for Jeongin, but he hadn’t done something like this before. 

“Of course, I have nothing going on this weekend,” Minho responded. Jeongins heart beating eased and he let out a tiny exhale of breath he didn’t know he was holding in. 

Before the two boys knew it, they were standing outside the apartment complex which housed Chan’s apartment. 

“Well, this is my stop,” Jeongin began, “it was nice working with you.”

“Same here, see you later,” Minho said his goodbyes and Jeongin also let out a tiny ‘goodbye’ as he watched the other teen walk away. 

Jeongin followed the little light the light posts emitted. He had memorized the path to Chan’s apartment through the winding trails after the couple times walking to and fro school. 

Once Jeongin arrived at the falling apart door, and pushed it open he was greeted with the sound of music streaming from across the apartment. As if on cue, Jisung came out of the room where the music was coming from and walked towards the kitchen.

“Hey Jeongin,” he smiled when he saw the younger boy. “How was the project?”

“It’s coming along just fine,” Jeongin replied, rocking back and forth on feet. He stood in the doorway, hesitant on a decision of what to do next. “How’s the… music coming along?” he jutted out quickly, cringing at his terrible social skills. If Jeongin came off as socially inept, Jisung clearly did a good job at ignoring it.

“Oh, it’s going great—wait!” Jeongin froze his rocking back and forth at Jisungs sudden stop in his response, somewhat anxious. “I should probably tell Chan you’re home now, shouldn’t I.” Jeongins nervousness lowered, relieved that Jisung hadn’t said anything worse.

Jeongin found that he did that a lot, worried intensely over things that most likely didn’t need any worry whatsoever. His mind went into hyperdrive as soon as something even slightly could hint at a negative prospect. 

“Hey Jeongin, you’re home right on time,” Chan’s cheery voice brought Jeongin back down to reality. Chan seemed to notice Jeongins not so joyful aura, “is everything alright?”

“Uh, yeah, just like cold outside so, you know… it’s um, uncomfortable…” Jeongin tried forming any excuse in his mind to go around the idea of talking about his anxiety with Chan. But Jeongin always has been, and always will be a terrible liar. Chan quirked up one eyebrow, clearly not taking any of Jeongin’s bullshit.

“I won’t press any further, but you need to go to sleep,” he sighed, “and tonight you’ll sleep in my room, I’ll take the couch.”

“Oh, you don’t have to, I don’t want to burden-” 

“You won’t burden anyone, I am just fine sleeping on the couch. C’mon, I’ll help you get in bed,” Chan waves Jeongin over. 

They both enter the bedroom, Chan went to prepare the bed and Jeongin set his bag down and went to get some pajamas. The young teen quickly ran to the bathroom the get ready for bed.

Chan was just finishing preparing the bed when Jeongin comes back. The room was slightly cleaner than the rest of the apartment, but little knick knacks were still littered here and there. 

“You’ll be good, right?” Chan walked over to Jeongin, and made sure he was alright.

“Uh yeah, I’m just gonna go to sleep—I’m really tired,” Jeongin ran a hand over his face. Him being tired wasn’t a lie, going to Minho’s house and walking to Chan’s apartment afterward really wore him down. 

“Ok, just holler if you need me,” Chan reached out and rubbed Jeongin’s shoulder, and then he exited the room. The door closed, leaving only a small crack of light to enter into the dark room. 

A window was just across the bed, letting the moonlight stream into the cramped space. Jeongin was able to feel his way to the bed and crawl in. 

It felt as though the second his head hit the pillow, he was out cold.

(Flashback)

“Jeongin, come here, we’re going to Ms. Yu’s stall today!” 

Five-year-old Jeongin hurried downstairs, excited to go to his favorite stall at the market downtown. Every year for his birthday, his mom would let him go buy one thing from the stall, and today was his lucky day—it was his birthday.

Ms. Yu was really young, just freshly graduated from college, but Jeongin picked her as his favorite person ever (just behind his mom of course). She always gave candies to Jeongin all the time when him and his mom stopped by to talk to the young artist.

Yes, she was an artist, but something about her just set her apart. Her pieces were amazing, and if you got to the stall early enough, she would draw any picture you wanted on the spot. 

Jeongin had been planning an empty space on his wall for a new, hand-drawn poster of Spider-Man. 

“Ready to go?” Jeongin’s mother leaned down to help the boy put his shoes on, a soft smile on her face. Jeongin nodded eagerly, already halfway out the door. The woman chuckled softly at the child’s actions and followed him. 

The drive to the market seemed to last forever for the young boy, him bouncing up and down in his booster seat. His mom often went to the market but she rarely took Jeongin.

The market was a diverse place, people from all walks of life would come to shop and sell items. Jeongin loved being encased in the smell of cooking food, the sights of old antiques, and hearing the bidding of voices thrown around. 

They soon approached the art stalls and Jeongin immediately found Ms. Yu’s stall, filled to the brink with beautiful art pieces. 

“Came for your birthday present?” Jeongin turned to see his (second) favorite woman. Ms. Yu always wore baggy clothes but still managed to look elegant. She really reminded him of his mother.They both had the aura of always lighting up a room whenever they entered.

“Yes! Can you make a Spider-Man poster?” Jeongin felt himself bouncing up and down again, excited for his present.

“Well, a little birdie told me before you got here, and I have already made it,” Ms. Yu stated with a wide smile whilst pulling out a well sized paper out from behind the counter. Jeongin was able to catch a glimpse of the poster, and saw the photo of Spider-Man sprawled across it. 

“What do you say to her?” Jeongin’s mom poses at the young boy. 

“Thank you!” Jeongin grasped the poster and pulled it towards him. Both Jeongin’s mom and Ms. Yu laughed at his eagerness. 

This was how it was every year since Jeongin could remember, Ms. Yu would draw the young boy a poster every birthday. After Jeongin got his poster he would drown out the light conversation that his mom and Ms. Yu would have for a couple minutes after. He had to take time to fully appreciate the masterpiece.

Jeongin wished he could go back to that childhood bliss, just being over-the-top excited for a poster. But most of all, he missed his mom. She was always there for him, until she wasn’t. She and Jeongin would wander around the market, trying random food and giggling at funny objects they would find. He truly missed those moments the most. 

(End of Flashback)

Jeongin jolted back awake, and he glanced over to the clock beside him. It was around 1 am, so he got a bit of sleep during his dream. He was covered in a thin layer of sweat, which also lightly soaked the sheets under him. 

He kicked the comforter of him to let in cool air, and to stretch his legs. Jeongin relaxed back into the mattress and let his mind wander back to the dream he had.

He let himself go back to the happiness the dream gave to him. The detail of the sounds, smells and sights brought him pure bliss. As much as he wanted to focus on his eagerness about the Spider-Man poster, he kept going back to his mom.

His mom was such a huge influence on him, her positive attitude rubbed off on him strongly. Many people would comment that Jeongin seemed to be a carbon copy of his mother. Jeongin didn’t have one bad memory of his mom, she was caring and kind to everyone (especially her son).

He felt like he could truly be happy once again if he found his mother and rebuilt their relationship. So Jeongin decided on that moment, he would find his mom.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wow it’s been literally forever. i hope this summer i can update a lot more, a lot quicker. i’m also thinking about making this au abt 20 chapters long idkkk what do y’all think.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you guys enjoyed!!! I’m going to try to update by the 20th this month!
> 
> Twitter is @mochiesungie


End file.
